


Color? Green.

by mssrj_335



Series: FinnPoe Purple Prose [11]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blindfolds, Bottom Poe Dameron, Competent Finn (Star Wars), Control, Dirty Talk, Finn's intense guys, If you’re here for rough sex you will not find it lol, It's Softer Than You Think, Kink request, M/M, POV Poe Dameron, Poe Dameron gets rekt, Porn with Feelings, Purple Prose, Romance, Rope Bondage, Sex Toys, This was too much fun, Top Finn (Star Wars), Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26736871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: Sometimes Poe just likes to let go. Finn is all too happy to help him do that.--Poe shakes his head to himself, lets it drop just a hair before pulling his shoulders straight and taking a breath. Holds it. Finn won’t come back until he gets himself under control. Because that’s the deal. Have control now to give it up later. You can’t give it up if you’ve never had it, hotshot, Finn’s words echo. A reminder. His heart races but when he lets the breath out nice and easy, his pulse slows. Just needs the right frame of mind. Battle mindset. Patience. Focus. Except the end goal here is surrender. A chance to give up the fight, if only for a little while.
Relationships: Finn/Poe Dameron, Finnpoe, Poe Dameron/Finn, Stormpilot - Relationship
Series: FinnPoe Purple Prose [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744870
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52





	Color? Green.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheCarrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarrot/gifts).



> YAAAAAAA THIS WAS FUN :D  
> playlist linked in the text if you want a mood >__>

[Does](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2sTQpF-Bo9JvcoxdkNzMsAEkwwa8OGhJ) there need to be any reason for this to be happening?

According to Finn, the answer is,

“No.”

Poe shivers against the blindfold.

“You would’ve let me know by now if you didn’t want to.”

Finn’s right. Absolutely right. And it makes a hot ember in his chest flare to life; he trusts him to say it. It’s just for fun, always for fun. Too bad he’s already aching for it.

“That’s what this’s all about, right?” he grins. Poe can’t see it, but he can almost hear the raise of Finn’s lip in the way he huffs, amused.

“Right.” Something familiar drags the floor of their shared quarters and Poe shivers again. “You ready?”

He breathes, “ _Yes_.”

“Color?”

Ah yes, the ever-important color. He hasn’t needed any color but one. Well, except for the first few rounds. They’ve done this so many times he doesn’t know why Finn even asks anymore. But the fact that he does makes Poe feel warm and sticky in a way that isn’t sexual in the slightest. Finn’s boot prods at him gently.

“Green,” he says, rolling his eyes though Finn can’t see it and kicking back.

“All right.” He hears the smile in Finn’s voice.

Poe stands motionless in the center of the room, because that’s the deal. Finn’s boots tread easy and light on the rug. Not for the first time, he’s glad he bought it. They may still be in the thick of it, but who says the Resistance can’t have a few perks? And after a few times with his ass ending up planted on cold plascrete, he decided to pick a perk. There’s a rustle of fabric and he knows Finn’s kneeling. Because that’s how it always goes. He takes one of Poe’s boots, then the other. Always keeping at least a finger on him, presence always solid and known. Finn’s hands pause at his belt, unbuckle and undo the zip of his trousers but he doesn’t pull them off yet. He goes higher, button by button up Poe’s shirt. Fingers warm where they brush his skin. Peeling him bare inch by inch. There’s still the distance though, when Finn slides his shirt off. He hates it and loves it in equal measure, but he can be patient. _Surely_. Fabric hits the floor. He’s already harder than he was. No doubt when the trousers come off Finn’ll have something to…ahem, deal with.

And Finn, damn him, knows that already. One hand drags across his hip to the small of his back, then two rest on the waist of his trousers. Waiting. Poe tries not to wiggle too much. Easier said than done though. Finn’s breath brushes warm, damp over the back of his neck, lips press, and Poe jumps. In a good way.

“Easy,” Finn murmurs.

Like this, he’s never sure where Finn is, even though he knows where the general’s clever hands rest. Poe presses his hips back, looking for him in a decidedly distracting way, and Finn’s fingers turn to iron.

“Patience.”

“Gods _damn_ it, Finn. Come on.”

His hands leave.

Damn it. He tries anyway, “Green.”

Poe shakes his head to himself, lets it drop just a hair before pulling his shoulders straight and taking a breath. Holds it. Finn won’t come back until he gets himself under control. Because that’s the deal. Have control now to give it up later. _You can’t give it up if you’ve never had it, hotshot_ , Finn’s words echo. A reminder. His heart races but when he lets the breath out nice and easy, his pulse slows. Just needs the right frame of mind. Battle mindset. Patience. Focus. Except the end goal here is surrender. A chance to give up the fight, if only for a little while.

From behind, “Color?”

There’s a larger thread of truth when he replies, “Green.”

His ears are straining for Finn again but the soft music playing in the background serves to muffle his step. When his hands return, Poe can only just keep his little jerk to himself.

“You sure that’s the right one?” Finn murmurs, close enough to his ear that it sends a sharp tingle down his throat.

“Promise.”

He’s only as jumpy as he is because it’s been _ages_ since they had time for this. The opportunity just fell into their collective lap; how could he _not_ be excited about it? Finn kisses his shoulder like he’s heard those thoughts and, hell, maybe he has. Who knows how all that Force stuff works? At last, Finn’s hands settle back on the band of his trousers and underpants. Then just under. Gripping both. He smiles to himself, leans his head back even though Finn’s still keeping his distance. Learned that the hard way; both come off at the same time. Finn takes a breath like he needs to prepare. Some part of Poe finds that absolutely crazy that Finn would even need to. The man has nerves of durasteel. But he does it every time.

Inch by inch, Finn pulls Poe’s trousers down. Past his thighs, to his knees. His cock bobs free. Cool air tickling eddies over the hair on his legs. Gentle as can be, Finn pulls one foot free. Then the other. And quite abruptly, Poe’s standing in the middle of their room, naked as the day he was born. Save for the blindfold and the bright chain around his neck. No longer with his mother’s ring—Finn has that now—just a chain. He found he missed the sensation (and look where it got him). But even that goes, removed next by careful hands lest it get caught. The chain jingles when Finn sets it down somewhere, there’s clothes moving, probably his out of the way, then Poe hears that sound. A rustle. A familiar _thwack_. Warning. A hiss, coming closer.

Finn’s got his rope.

Poe sucks in a sharp breath. He can picture it, black twisted syncloth, tightly woven. Finn had picked it. _I like the way it looks on you_ , he’d said. Every nerve is on fire, Poe can almost feel the heat of Finn’s fingers before they land on his hip. And _oh—_ there it is. Finn’s palm is laced with rope, smooth and firm, an extension of his hands. It had taken so much talking. So much _negotiating_. At times, Poe would’ve thought he was bargaining for the galaxy and not for himself. As always, Finn proved more perceptive than Poe would’ve ever dreamed.

_“Are you sure about this?” he’d asked._

_Poe shrugged, trying to keep his composure. Why wouldn’t he be? Finn narrowed his eyes._

_“Not until_ **_I’m_ ** _sure then.”_

_Poe deflated at the ultimatum, turned away. Just nodded. Maybe Finn didn’t trust him then. And it begged the question: Does Poe trust himself? Finn’s insistent hand pulled his chin back, his eyes up, until they were face to face again in their bed._

_“You need to tell me why.” Poe opened his mouth to answer but, “Not right now,” Finn murmured. “I want you to think about it. And_ **_I’ll_ ** _think about it. Can you do that?”_

_At the time, Poe didn’t recognize that question for what it was. All he knew was the tone of Finn’s voice made him shiver and he was too happy to agree. He thought about it. Finn didn’t bring it up again. Waiting patient for Poe to circle back. Turns out, he’d needed the time. Needed to come to terms with all those tangled things that wanted him in a literal web. So he thought. Circled back._

_When he did, Finn trusted him_.

“I need you to kneel.”

Finn’s voice snaps him back to the present. His hands haven’t moved, solid and unwavering. Not even pressing. Just waiting.

“Can you do that?”

Stars, that tone. It quivers in his chest like some living thing. So Poe kneels. Finn’s fingers, the rope, stay in exactly the same spot, sensation only shifting as Poe himself moves down. Unsurprisingly, there’s a pillow waiting for him. There’s always one, because Finn’s considerate like that, but it still makes his heart clench. Finn waits. Poe adjusts his position to make sure his feet won’t fall asleep and when he stops wiggling, Finn follows.

Close enough that the rough fabric of his trousers catches on Poe’s skin as he crouches. Finn fits his knees around him and Poe has to take a deep breath. Suddenly Finn is as close as he can get, knees tight to Poe’s thighs, plastered to his back, arms circling around his chest to hold his wrists in a loose grip. The warm scent of his body permeates the air and Poe lets his head drop back onto Finn’s shoulder. From where they were and all the distance, it’s almost overwhelming. But after a second, he can feel _everything_. Stars, he almost forgot how hard he was. Is. Once he brings his focus back, he remembers he’s _aching_. Finn leans left, then right, almost swaying them to the music. From where his nose is pressed into Poe’s neck, his lips smear a single word, vibrate into his skin,

“Color?”

The timbre in Finn’s voice thrills right beneath his solar plexus, to his core. It’s hungry. Needful and demanding. Intense, focused.

“Green. So, _so_ green.”

He feels Finn’s smile, an easy lethargy starting to creep in. Being the subject of Finn’s laser focus has a way of turning him to putty. The general rarely speaks when they’re like this. Only to ask what he wants and nothing more. It’s Finn’s way of saying _you have me, you have all of me_ and Poe hears him loud and clear. They’re here. Together. All that command and concentration and all the kriffing commitments start seeping out with the control of his muscles. He can let go. Finn’s got him. And seems to relish having him.

Finn fits his hands over Poe’s, rope forgotten for the moment. _Oh this is new…_ Entwined, Finn explores Poe’s body with him. Their fingers linger on his thighs, slide slow over his stomach, ignoring the hottest, most demanding part of him. When their hands pass over the meat of his chest, Finn lets his blunt nails bite just a bit. Drag over a nipple. Poe gasps just in time for Finn to pass Poe’s wrist off to be held in his left hand while his right travels alone up the column of Poe’s throat. Stars, what a feeling. All Finn has to do is press and Poe’s falling back into him. Solidly, wholly supported against Finn’s chest, throat bared. It’s times like this he feels like shattering. Entirely in Finn’s hands. Suspended on a tightrope of emotion, waiting to fall. More adored than he’s ever felt in his entire life.

“Good?” Finn’s breath is hot on his cheek.

Poe’s rapidly losing the ability to make his tongue do what he wants. “Uh huh.”

Suddenly, Finn pushes him forward. With his hands, with his body. The heat of him’s no longer a line along Poe’s back. It’s cold. Then, a familiar _thwack_. A hiss, coming closer. Finn’s hands leave him but only long enough to pull the rope over his thighs and collect his arms again. In seconds, Finn threads his line between the pillar of Poe’s wrists, twists twice around. Fixes a flat slip knot, just out of reach of his fingers. Poe’s breath comes quick. Lips part, soft exhale. Every fiber of the rope feels like it’s tightening a coil in his gut. Like Finn tightens the knot. He pulls Poe left, right, swaying again slowly, pulling him on a lead. A pause. Poe can barely breathe. Barely hear or smell or think. All his mind senses is Finn and the rope. And intuitively, Finn knows he needs a moment. So Finn is slow. Drags the cord up and over the length of Poe’s chest and the side of his neck in a breath that feels like forever. Poe doesn’t need to nod, doesn’t even need to think. Finn knows. As sure as breathing. The general’s arms come back to him, position his hands in the center of his chest. The rope hisses over the rug, winds twice around him and fixes his hands to his heart. Biting into his skin. Immobilized. Finn fixes the knot in the center of his back, then he bites in too. Holds tight to his woven handle and pulls Poe right into his teeth like he wants to eat him alive. Stars, Finn sucks his skin between those teeth; there’s going to be a mark. Big and dark and it’ll tingle for _days_ when he touches it. It goes right to his dick, kriff he can’t—

“Finn, _please_ ,” he breathes. He’s not begging yet, but he will. Eventually.

Finn’s answer is to yank Poe’s head back, fingers tight in his hair. Almost until his back is bowed over Finn’s knee. Stars, there’s no force in the galaxy as strong as the gravity pulling him into Finn now. The rope tickles up his shoulder, pulls taut over the juncture of his throat and his jaw, laying ear to ear. Tenderly, Finn cradles his chin, holding Poe in place while with the other, he draws the rope free. Stars burst, die in the blackness in his eyes. The pressure, the slide of it tingles right into Poe’s teeth and he groans. Kriff, what an answer.

Finn keeps him there for a while. Dragging the rope here and there. It could be hours, minutes, days. He doesn’t know. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Flowing, like a conversation. Full of feelings words won’t do justice. _There it is_. The control. Finn wants it—bad. Poe can feel it in the way the rope moves. And Poe wants nothing more than to give it to him. Inch by inch, he melts. Muscle and bone no more than gelatin, supple under Finn’s knowing hands. When Finn twists him the binding digs in and stars burst, die in his skin. Dazed, taut, he feels. The cord’s end brushes against his hip but the rest stays tight. Creaking with his breath. So caught up in the friction is he that he misses Finn shuffling behind him. A faint click draws his attention but it’s muzzy. Then something cool and slick presses low between his legs and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Shh, hey,” Finn soothes, one arm tight around his waist, just under Poe’s bound hands. “I got you. It’s all right.”

“What _is_ that?” He knows what Finn’s fingers feel like and that is most certainly _not_ them.

Finn kisses the crest of his shoulder, pets his stomach. “A surprise. Something new. That all right?”

Poe takes a deep breath. Eases himself back into Finn’s body and molds himself there as an answer. So close he feels the question vibrate in Finn’s chest.

“Color?”

Of course he needs a real answer.

“Green.”

There’s a tight second where neither of them move. Poe can hardly breathe. With abruptly nothing to focus on, all he knows is his own body. The ache building in his knees. Light tremble in his thighs. His cock twitching and hot there, a bead of precum trails down his length, growing cold in the chill. His heart’s racing and he can feel it where Finn’s tied his hands tight to his chest. Then, the cold thing is back. He can’t keep the gasp escaping his teeth but Finn’s mouth is still against his shoulder. Finn smiles, and Poe feels that. The thing—the _toy_ , he realizes—slides slick over the curve of his ass. Finn eases Poe’s knees open a little farther, circles gently, presses in. And he _definitely_ feels that.

“ _Oh—_ ” It’s barely a word, more a guttural groan ripped from his core. Whatever that toy is, he feels every inch of it. Blunt tip, flare. Not as good as Finn’s cock but still a delicious stretch. And Finn goes _agonizingly_ slow. Poe’s positive the only thing getting the toy into his ass is the way his breath hitches, his hips jerk at every centimeter. But _finally_ it’s seated. Pointedly pressed against that sensitive spot. So pointed in fact he almost forgets about the ropes and his dick and his knees and Finn’s warmth behind him. That is, until, Finn makes a point to be known.

Finn’s hand closes around Poe’s cock and he actually shouts.

“Gods, _Finn_!”

He wants. Kriffing shit fucking hell he _wants_. To drive his hips into that grip, flip over and pin Finn to the floor and ride him into oblivion, _anything_ —

“Are you paying attention?”

He can’t move. Oh. Right. The ropes are still tight around him, Finn’s grip is solid, unyielding. The scent of them both is hot on the air. There’s just so much—

“Are you listening?” Finn murmurs.

“Yes,” he gasps. _I am,_ is what he means to follow with but Finn’s wrist twists and steals his words.

“Here’s what I want you to do for me,” Finn’s voice rumbles through his back, thick in his ear. His hips stutter again Poe’s ass when he pushes back, a momentary lapse of control.

“Anything.”

“I want you to sit here and not say a word.”

“ _What?_ ” Another something new. Kriff, how’s he supposed to stay quiet when all the stuff building in him has nowhere else to go? This is already so far off where they usually tread. If he doesn’t beg, would Finn still deliver him?

“I want you to sit here and listen to me.” The pace of Finn’s hand on his dick is maddeningly slow. Poe pants. “Can you do that for me?”

Stars, that question. A pause. Finn’s hand stops. Every inch of him is held in place. He wants. But whatever it is he wants, or even _thinks_ he wants, Finn will give him so much better. Time and age have made him brilliant, beautiful, sure. Like this, there’s no hesitation in him. He knows every path Poe could possibly want and whatever he chooses will give them what they both want in the end.

“Ok.”

It’s a simple admission but it’s what Finn asked. Then, there’s something at his lips. Kriff, when did that get there? The end of the rope.

Another question.

Well, he has an answer. Poe opens his mouth and Finn slides the rope between his teeth. It stays slack, doesn’t tighten. Which means it’s his responsibility. And his out. It’s implied. He’ll hold it until either he can’t take it anymore or Finn releases him.

He’s not sure which one will come first.

Finn’s hands vacate for a moment, trace the ropes and the indents they’re starting to leave. He touches Poe for ages. Leaves him dick hard and toy settled and wanting. But eventually, he sighs. Or rather, Finn takes a deep, deep breath and resettles himself around Poe. All-encompassing and present. Exactly what Poe didn’t know he needed. Gentle kisses flit up his shoulder, his neck, his ear. At last, Finn finds a place he seems to be comfortable in, nestles his chin over Poe’s shoulder so his mouth barely grazes Poe’s ear with every breath he takes.

“Ready?”

Poe almost answers out loud. He catches himself, swallows, nods. The rope tickles his neck. There’s a long moment. Finn speaks.

“Usually if you want this, you have to ask. And ask nicely, right?”

Well, not always true. Sometimes he can surprise Finn. There’s no hard and fast rule for it. But for the sake of it, he nods.

“And you know whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” His fist tightens around Poe’s cock again, starts jerking low and slow. “Sometimes until you’re begging me to hold you, huh?”

He gasps. Nods. _Yes, yes yes all true._ Whatever thought is next in Poe’s head shatters because _fuck_ —his hips jackknife. The only thing keeping him from face-planting is Finn’s hands and his rope. Something _in_ him is shaking. It takes a full second to remember that buzzing is coming from the toy. And Finn’s turned it on without moving his kriffing hands.

“Haaaaaaa—-aaaah!” It’s not a word. Not technically. And apparently Finn allows it.

That stupid little thing buzzes like mad, right against that bundle of nerves. Finn’s starting to move with him, cock pressing hot against Poe’s ass through his trousers.

“Sometimes I just do it to watch you,” Finn growls. “I like this. And the way you shake laid out in our bed makes my mouth fuckin’ water, you know that?”

He wheezes, moans. Finn smirks against his skin. Jerks a little faster.

“I know how you like it, don’t I?”

_Stars, he fucking does_. He nods as hard as he can.

“I know you like it out in public sometimes, hotshot.”

_Kriff—fuck._

“But _I_ like to keep you in here to myself sometimes. Right between your hips, shit I could kriffin’ live there.”

The toy ratchets a little higher. Poe groans past the rope and nearly doubles over. Finn doesn’t allow it though, keeps him pulled back and close. He sets a steady rhythm now. On and on and on. What’s time? It’s not something Poe knows anymore. Perfect pressure, perfect slide. Everything about Finn’s stupid hands is perfect, gods _damn_ him. Slick and hot and it’s everything Poe wants. Rolling his hips into Poe’s ass like he just can’t help himself. Bumping that toy a little harder and pulling his cock a little faster so manic desire blooms so deep in Poe’s skin he swears it’s ripping in him.

“Anytime you want, I hold you up. Don’t I? Satisfy all those undisclosed desires you’re begging for. I like it when you tell me I’m the only one like I don’t know. But this—I might like this even better.”

Poe shakes his head. The edge is so close already and Finn is driving him mercilessly to it. Kriff, they’ve done enough waiting. He absolutely won’t last, not a second more if Finn keeps talking like that.

“You don’t have long, do you?”

What the fuck—

Finn inches the toy’s setting a little higher and Poe sobs around the rope. He nearly kriffing drops it. _Give it to me—let me—show me, please—_ Stars, he’s begging in his head. It’s all waiting in his throat, dying to get out. Not yet, not yet. Just wait.

“You ready?”

Poe nods vehemently. Fuck he’s _been_ ready. The arm holding Poe’s waist disappears, there’s a gentle tug at the rope in his teeth. Obediently, he lets it go. Oh, he was biting that hard. His jaw aches but it registers only a second. Finn’s panting softly in his ear, pulling him, throwing him to the edge.

“What do you say?”

“ _Please_.”

He didn’t think it could go higher, but Finn turns the toy on full power and Poe _screams_. One second, two firm, sure strokes then Finn _bites_ and he’s absolutely gone. Every muscle tightens, strains against the rope and Finn’s hands and his body. He doesn’t know how long. He doesn’t know his name. All he knows is molten pleasure, liquid pressure. Movement. Spiraling, pulling, tearing, shaking. Finn.

Until…until he comes floating back down. Finn holds him, just like he promised he would. Just like he always does. In that moment, freedom is a fallacy. Why would he ever want it when being bound like this is so good? When Finn’s onslaught stops, his breathing eases, and he remembers. Everything’s hazy and muted. Swimming in pleasant aftershocks. But he remembers. He lets Finn straighten his legs and pull him back to his chest. They sit like that together on the floor for a while. Finn’s fingers tracing nonsensical patterns in Poe’s skin until his ass starts to hurt from sitting so long. He’s not even sure when the ropes and toy and blindfold leave, he doesn’t really even feel them go. But he does hear Finn murmur,

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

So he does. The room comes back into focus. The rest of his senses start to fall from their height. And Finn waits, patient as ever.

When he’s ready, Poe shifts. Turns back far enough to get at Finn’s face and kiss him. It was just supposed to be once but it turns into twice and three times and the heat’s already starting to build in his gut again. When Finn breaks away, it’s with a smile and a fond finger stroking his cheek.

“Color?”

Poe sighs, ready to get to his feet. They’ll go to the ‘fresher and he’ll repay the favor. Then maybe again when they’re done. They’ll have to have another shower and the cycle starts again. He grins. Stars, he can’t wait.

“Green.”

**Author's Note:**

> Forgot the inspo, if you want to check it   
> https://youtu.be/rUfpoO1W_FE


End file.
